


Hell Hath No Fury

by agoodtuckering



Series: The Thick of It Oneshots and Stories [3]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: And Ollie deserves all of it, Anger, F/M, Friendship, Hidden Feelings, Mutual Pining, SO MUCH YELLING, Sam nearly chews Ollie up and spits him back out again, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:32:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering
Summary: Ollie's a handful and Sam's incredibly fed up with the way he talks about Malcolm behind his back, in spite of all that the man does for him. She has a few choice words for the little fucker. Malcolm accidentally witnesses everything.





	Hell Hath No Fury

There was no way to sugar-coat it. Ollie was a shite-talker. He loved to boast and brag and talk big. He did. Deep down, he wasn’t so bad. But, more often than not, he was just a Cambridge twat and Sam had _really_ had enough of it on this fine Thursday morning.

He was talking to someone closeby, laughing about some stupid fucking tennis match and its outcome. Not only that but he was complaining _heavily_ about Malcolm’s inability to sort out Hugh Abbot’s boatload of shit in time for the papers to printed early this morning. For once, Abbot had fucked up _so badly_ that even the mighty Malcolm Tucker couldn’t fix the mess or spin it to their advantage.

Oh, Ollie was having a field day. Really, he was. Little shit that he was, he just _wouldn’t_ stop. Rising from her desk, fully aware that she was well within plain view of Malcolm’s office, she began clearing her desk. The door was ajar and he could see everything. She could practically feel his gaze on her, even from far away.

She snagged some papers that looked as if they needed to be copied, along with a manila folder to place everything inside afterward, before heading Ollie’s way. “Come with me,” she told him quietly, trying not to make a scene.

“Why? Finally thought of a cupboard you’d fancy shagging me in?” he asked, sending a toothy, obnoxious grin her way. She _almost_ smacked him, but it would have been in poor taste. And in all honesty, he probably would have had a bloody heart attack. She wasn’t ready to go to prison for murdering the poor boy. Not yet, anyway.

Instead, he simply followed behind her. Nothing too badly happened. A few eyes moved their way, but no one spoke up about it. Obediently, he left with her.

Sam pushed him into an unused conference room and slammed the door. “You little fucking shit,” she exploded on him. She slammed her folder down on the table with all the fury of a wounded woman.

Ollie was, if nothing else, utterly _frozen_ and afraid _._ Skittish, too. With good reason. 

“Do you even understand the _shit_ Malcolm does for you? Day in and day out! Every fucking day! He puts his balls on the line for you, Ollie!”

He’d barely said a few words for the woman in the past, other than hellos and goodbyes and hopeless flirty comments as he passed her desk. Her mouth would have made most men blush up a storm, and yet he wasn’t even surprised. She worked for Malcolm, for Christ’s sake!

“Uh,” he started, “Miss Cassidy… Sam… Maybe you should calm down a bit.”

The look on Sam’s face was pure, unadulterated fury. She pointed a finger at Ollie and said, “Have you ever _once_ thanked Malcolm for what he does for you lot? Have you?”

Ollie’s shoulder were so high that it didn’t even look like he had a neck anymore. The sight _almost_ had her laughing.

“N-No,” he tentatively said. “He isn’t exactly the type to accept a ‘thank you’ or anything else. He leaves like a storm. Brings the clouds and the driving rain away with him and everything when he goes.”

She jabbed her finger in his direction again and asked, “Well, how the fuck would you know? You’ve never tried it before. And he’d be thankful for the acknowledgement. Trust me, Ollie. I’ve been working for him for almost a decade now. I _know_ Malcolm Tucker. He works himself raw for this mess of a country. He does his best. How _dare you_ walk around here, waltzing about, taking the piss. How _dare you._ You don’t deserve to have someone like him in your life. And really, he doesn’t need an annoying twat like you running around making messes for him to clean up later on. He deserves so much better. _This party_ deserves so much better.” 

Ollie’s hackles were up now. He got a little brave in those few seconds.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m just trying to do my best here. I hate this fucking job. I do. And I hate the fuckers around Westminster. Not even fucking fond of the little shits I work with. Especially Hugh and Terri. She belongs in the loony bin with her psychotic family that she’s always rambling about.

Sam was fierce. Her nostrils practically flared. “You shut your mouth. My uncle is at the same care facility that her mother’s in. Have some respect, for Christ’s sake!”  
  
What she didn’t realize, however, was that Malcolm was lurking in the hall. He had been the entire time. Neither Sam nor Ollie saw him outside, or knew that he could hear the entirety of their exchange. Something swelled in his chest. _If_ he had a heart, he realized it was hers. Fucking brilliant woman that she was. She always had his back, no matter what.

“If you ever come in here again and crack so much as one fucking joke about Malcolm again,” she said, warning Ollie, “I swear to god, I’ll rip your balls off and feed them to you myself. Cock and all. I’ll fry them up with a bit of fucking Italian seasonings. Bet you’d enjoy that.” She reached for her folder, calmly adding, “That’s honestly the only way I can ever see your disgusting cock in someone’s mouth, even if it’s only your own.”

Ollie was practically against the wall and pressed up against the window now. He gulped. “Malcolm’s rubbing off on you, you know that? You’re even scarier than he is.” He didn’t _dare_ mention that mouth of hers. She was terrifying.

She turned at the door, lofting a brow and saucily replying, “Oh, you’ve _no_ idea.” Was that an innuendo? Ollie would never know. Nevertheless, his cheeks went pink.

From where Malcolm was standing, his belly dipped violently. He _wished_ they were together in that way. But they weren’t. They never had been. They had come so close in the past, but he always remained professional around her, despite their obvious attraction to one another. She was too wonderful, too precious to ruin with his mess of a life. Even if, dare he admit, he cared for her more than anyone else in his wretched life. He had for a very long time.

Before Sam strode from the room, he rushed along down the hall and slipped back into his office without so much as a single gaze on him. He was sneaky that way, or perhaps it was just because he terrified every single lifeform for that worked for him or with him.

Sam was so protective. Fiercely so. Maybe it was about time he did something about the unspoken thing between. Just asking her out to dinner couldn’t hurt, could it?

He watched as she sat down at her desk again, tossing her folder aside and logging into her computer again. She cast a soft glance towards his office and in his direction, something lingering in her eyes, and then went back to work as dutifully as ever.

 _Yes,_ he decided. _Definitely ask her out to dinner, ye bampot._

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a prompt I received on Tumblr from natcrawlers which read: TUSSIDY PROMPT - Sam gets really angry at someone *cough* Ollie *cough* for talking shit about Malcolm and not appreciating his work and she loses her nerve and tells them where they belong like a protective savage she is that 1% of a time when people are just being twats... and the best part is that Malcolm witnesses it by accident, Sam unaware of that fact ;)
> 
> I hope it came out well. One of my favorite prompts to work on, honestly.


End file.
